


The loneliest number

by panamdea



Series: Waiting for you sadness [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss, so much loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panamdea/pseuds/panamdea
Summary: Mirax Terrik has never minded lying to achieve her goals. But in the aftermath of the battle over Distna, realising how alone it has left Wes Janson, she discovers a lie she isn’t sure she can tell.Set somewhere between chapters 21 and 24 ofIsard's Revenge.





	The loneliest number

**Author's Note:**

>   
> One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do.  
> Two can be as bad as one,  
> It's the loneliest number since the number one.  
>   
> \- _One is the Loneliest Number, Harry Nilsson_  
>   
>  ~~~~

Mirax Terrik had never objected to lying. Had in fact built a successful smuggling career and later a respectable business, from knowing when, where and who to lie to. But there were things you didn’t lie about and people you didn’t lie to and what she had been asked to do now broke rules she hadn’t consciously known she had.

Bothan physiology was different enough from humans that Asyr had come round hours before Janson had shown any signs of life. At first she’d had trouble understanding what had happened, but then she’d grasped Iella’s hand with surprising strength and demanded that if the other pilot woke they didn’t tell him she was alive. If, not when. Even then they’d all understood the probable outcome.

They had agreed eventually, but with hindsight Mirax realised that, shocked and upset as she had been, she hadn't thought through the implications if Janson did wake. Now, standing beside another bed in one of the _Errant Venture's_ medical bays, she watched the single other surviving Rogue open confused eyes, and realised she shouldn't have promised so quickly. 

"Wes?" Iella's voice was gentle. Mirax was grateful it wasn’t a tone her friend had used with her, she didn’t think she could stand it. 

A frown creased Janson’s forehead slightly as his eyes found Iella’s face and focused. "Wh-" he swallowed with obvious effort and tried again. “Iella?” His gaze flicked to Mirax, to the medic on the other side of the bed and across the white sterility of the medical bay “Mirax? What…?” 

Iella’s voice remained gentle as she answered a question they all knew he hadn’t asked. "Wes, you're on the _Errant Venture_. We picked you up in the Corvis Minor system." 

Janson’s frown deepened as he processed that. Then, "Rogues?"

Of course that would be his first thought, his first question. The tightest-knit group of pilots in the service, what other question would he ask? But Mirax wished he hadn't. Wished it could have waited. 

Iella hesitated a moment before replying and in that pause Mirax saw the painful understanding cross Janson’s face and realised, with an almost physical pain in her chest that stole her breath and brought tears burning to her eyes, how alone he was.

"I'm so sorry, Wes." Iella said softly. 

"No, I don't believe...." His instinctive flat denial trailed off. He obviously did believe it. What had he seen before he went EV, before unconsciousness claimed him? Had he been the last to be shot down? Had he watched his squadron die on his sensors as he tried to stay alive? Or had he gone down early and seen his squadron destroyed as he hung helpless in space, knowing he was alone as he waited his own turn to die? Would he remember if he had? Or had he been unconscious through it all, unaware of the desolation he was to wake to but, like Asyr, quick to process reality even while still fighting the fog of recovery?

Which was worse? 

"Wedge? Hobbie?" Janson didn’t seem to expect an answer, didn’t see Iella shake her head as his eyes tracked to Mirax and widened. "Corran?"

Mirax’s vision blurred and she shut her eyes against the hot tears she refused to shed because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop them. How could she answer him when she couldn’t accept the truth of Corran’s death herself? How could she tell Janson how alone he was and break his heart too?

Iella answered for her, her voice gentle, full of compassion, as she told him the lie they both knew would devastate him. “You were the only survivor, Wes.” 

Janson’s breath hitched and Mirax felt her heart break all over again. He was the _wrong_ survivor but she couldn’t say that, how could she even think it? 

“I'm sorry.” Janson’s words were a barely audible breath of pained regret she may have imagined. She wondered if he had been thinking the same, hoped he wasn’t, she wasn’t so far gone in grief that she’d want that. She forced herself to meet his eyes, to acknowledge his remorse and loss as he had acknowledged hers.

“We found one body,” Iella hesitated, pained, though at this truth or the lies, Mirax couldn’t tell, “a Quarran. Some debris, but not much. Most traces of the battle were gone.” 

“Lyyr.” Janson’s voice cracked and it took Mirax a moment to realise it was his squadmate’s name. One of his dead. One body to represent a squadron, a dozen lives but only two that mattered to her. Iron bands of guilt constricted in her chest; they all mattered to Janson, every one of them was a jagged empty absence that would likely fill his life and if Asyr hadn’t made her demands there could be one pain less for him. She could-

“Wes, we need to know what happened.” Iella continued gently giving Mirax time to swallow back the impulse to blurt out the truth. “What can you tell us?”

“I… We...” He paused, struggling for words or memory. “We jumped in-system... My flight was covering the snoopscoot. Nrin made his first pass. Didn’t find anything. I don’t…” He frowned, continued slowly. “There… were fighters. Hidden. A lot. An ambush. I don’t know who. What.” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know what happened after that. I don't-, there’s nothing else-” He stopped, his breath caught in half a sob. Mirax couldn’t tell if was pain or grief. 

“You may regain some lost memory,” the medic who had overseen Janson’s transfer from bacta said, startling them all. Mirax had forgotten she was there, silently monitoring her patient, earning her share of Booster’s hundred thousand credits. “But it is likely that you won't have formed memories for the period immediately before you were injured. You may never be able to remember what happened.” 

Janson shook his head, a tiny gesture of denial and squeezed his eyes shut, pain stark across his face. 

“It’s ok, Wes.” Iella said gently. She took his hand and he clutched her fingers convulsively as his breathing shook.

Mirax remembered suddenly the first time she’d met Wes Janson. It hadn’t been long after the Battle of Yavin, nearly a decade or a lifetime ago. He’d been in a hospital bed then too, but back on Mrllst he’d been happy, surrounded by friends. Almost recovered from a broken leg he’d laughed and flirted and thrown himself with gusto into a madcap escape from the security forces who’d tried to arrest the Rogues at his bedside. 

There was no laughter now. No escape for either of them.

She forced herself to stay for the rest of Iella’s questions, each one reminding them all again that the Rogues were gone, that her husband and the man she had always thought of as her brother were dead, two thirds of her family gone at once. It was a relief when the medic ended the terrible, gentle interrogation, and Janson lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“Will he be alright?” Iella asked, releasing Janson’s hand before stepping back from the bed, and Mirax heard the tight concern in her voice. 

The medic gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Physically he’ll recover fine. It’s too early to say if he’ll have any long-term memory impairment but you should be aware, that it’s probable he won’t remember much, if any, of what just happened the next time he wakes.”

“He’ll have to go through that again?” Mirax asked, horrified and, to her shame, not sure if she was more appalled for herself or for Janson.

“It won’t be again for him,” the medic said simply, “but yes, you may have to explain everything to him a second time. Maybe more. Now, excuse me please, we need to get him back into bacta.” 

Mirax and Iella made their way back to the suite of rooms Booster had given them in silence, neither of them quite willing to talk until they were behind closed doors. Back in the privacy of the suite, Mirax dropped heavily onto a couch, buried her face in her hands and said unsteadily, “Iella, I don’t think- I can’t do that again. I can’t.”

“You don’t have to. If it comes to it I’ll do it.” Iella’s tone was matter of fact. Mirax was glad for it, she wasn’t sure she could take sympathy just then. She was close enough to breaking down without it.

“Iella, we lied to him. He’s hurting so badly and we lied to him.”

“I lied to him, Mirax.” Iella corrected her gently as she sat down beside her, “and I’ll do it again if I need to and so will you.”

Mirax raised her face and looked at the other woman. “I don’t know that I-” She broke off, knowing that she couldn’t. “I can’t. Iella, we have to tell him about Asyr.”

“We can’t do that, Mirax,” Iella replied shortly, “we promised.”

“I know, but-” Mirax broke off, because she did know that, but she was haunted by the desolation in Janson’s eyes, “he’s so alone. Can’t you imagine what that would mean to him, knowing he wasn’t the only Rogue left?” 

Iella shook her head. “We can’t. If Asyr’s going to leave we can’t let anyone else know she’s alive.”

“Why do we owe Asyr more than we owe Wes?”

“We don’t, but for Wes' sake too-”

“How can it possibly be for Wes' good?” Mirax demanded, her voice rising as sudden anger bubbled up in her chest, anger with Asyr and Iella, with herself. “How can thinking his entire squadron is dead be good for him? I can’t believe-”

“She’s deserting, Mirax.” Iella’s voice was sharp as she cut her off. Mirax blinked at her, surprise dousing the anger and Iella continued more softly. “Asyr is deserting and the fewer people who know anything about it, the better.”

“But-”

“ _Especially_ Wes.” Iella continued, ignoring Mirax’s attempt to speak. “Because if he doesn’t know, he can’t tell anyone.” 

Mirax gaped at her, outraged on Wes’ behalf. “You think he’d betray her?”

Iella sighed and pushed her hair back from her face before letting her hands drop. “I don’t think so, but honestly, Mirax, I don’t know. Wes is more morally flexible than most of Starfighter Command but deep down he’s life military and I just don’t know him well enough to know if he’d support her. But even if he wouldn’t betray her deliberately, it’ll be easier for him if we don’t put him in that situation.”

“Easier?” Mirax echoed stubbornly.

“Mirax, think about it!” Iella sounded frustrated now. “Asyr’s deserting in what is, technically, a time of war. What’s the punishment for that?”

“Dishonourable discharge, a prison term,” Mirax said slowly, understanding, “possibly. Or maybe execution, depending on circumstance.”

“Right. And what’s the punishment for assisting a deserter to desert?” 

“I don’t know.” Mirax admitted, “But Wes wouldn’t care for the risk.” She was absolutely certain of this, as certain as she was that he wouldn’t betray Asyr’s survival or plans to his superiors. The Rogues’ first loyalty has always been to each other. And Mirax knew about Gara Petothel. Knew that Janson had actively conspired with Wedge to cover up her desertion. He had every reason to hate her, knowing her past, knowing her part in the deaths of eleven pilots he'd trained, but loyalty to the fellow Wraith she'd become had overridden all that. Mirax was sure he would hide Asyr’s secret as well. Did Iella know about Petothel? Could Mirax risk telling her?

“No, he probably wouldn't, but he’s not...” Iella paused groping for a word, sighed. “He’s not functioning properly, we both saw that. And he won’t be for a while, even when he’s physically healed up. Even if he didn’t mean to tell anyone, he’s going to be debriefed at length and hiding something like this would be hard for someone who wasn’t as messed up as he is right now." She sighed again and scrubbed a hand across her eyes looking suddenly very tired. "Mirax, Starfighter Command just lost _Rogue Squadron_ and as far as they know Wes is the only person who can tell them anything about what happened. He is going to spend a lot of time being debriefed in minute and excruciating detail. Don’t you think that’s going to be hellish for him without keeping Asyr’s secret on top of it?”

“I… I hadn’t thought of that.” Mirax said, feeling stupid. “You’re right.”

Iella’s expression softened. “You’ve had other things on your mind,” she said, gently.

Mirax stiffened slightly, trying hard not to think about Corran, this was not the time to fall apart, she refused to fall apart... “Wait,” she said, as a different thought occurred to her, “what about you? How much trouble will you be in if anyone finds out Asyr’s still alive and you knew?”

“Some." Iella smiled wryly at what Mirax knew was an understatement. It highlighted the exhaustion in her face. "Intelligence is a little more flexible than Starfighter Command, but they aren’t renowned for looking favourably on agents who assist military officers to commit court marshalable offences. And that’s another thing. When Starfighter Command are done with Wes you can bet your last credit Intelligence will be all over him asking questions about Booster and the _Errant Venture_. You know how much they like to keep tabs on your father.”

Mirax managed a smile. “Booster drip feeds Cracken’s agents on the ship random bits of misinformation. He’s making it something of a hobby.” She winced at the inadvertent reference to another of Wedge’s lost pilots. “You’re lucky he trusts you.”

“Intelligence has decided that Booster’s trust is more important than any information he’d be stupid enough to let me have. Cracken’s stopped asking me and Booster knows it.”

Mirax smiled despite herself, then reality reasserted itself and the crushing bands of loss and guilt wrapped themselves around her heart again.

“Kriff, Iella. How do we get through this?” The question was a whisper. 

The arm Iella put around Mirax’s shoulders was gentle but her voice as she answered was hard and Mirax realised that despite her own grief for Wedge and Corran, Iella was not as lost in this stark, newly uncertain galaxy as she was. “We start with the battleroms your father's people retrieved. We figure out who set the Rogues up. And then we take them down.”


End file.
